Broken Past
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: Horatio meets a woman from a case he worked years ago at a bar. When he begins to pursue a relationship with her, he finds himself falling hard. It becomes harder for him when she could be implicated in her boss's murder. Part 1 of the Time To Heal series.
1. Chapter 1

Lt. Horatio Caine had not thought to set eyes on Laila Collins again. He had first met her when she was a sophomore at the University of Miami. There had been a sexual assault and stabbing in a dorm. It was one of his first cases. They had caught the bastard, something he always felt proud about.

Speaking of proud, he was currently celebrating with his team after a successful case. He was usually against going out, but when asked he had thought for a moment, then replied "What the hell". The bar was cozy, smelled of booze, and had more people than was comfortable.

Horatio had spotted Laila at the bar. She was flicking the toothpick in her martini. Her blonde hair had been cut off around her shoulders, and was straight as the toothpick she was focused on. He walked over, motioning for the bartender to bring another round.

"Well, Ms. Collins. It's been what, ten years? More?" He said, smirking. Her face showed confusion for a moment, before she broke into a huge smile.

"Officer Caine! Wow, small world huh?" Laila asked. Her brown eyes were large, their lashes elongated by her mascara.

"It's Lieutenant now, actually. It is indeed a small world. What has been going on with you?" Horatio didn't feel as if he was prying. During the case, she had been quite helpful and had spoken freely about her personal life. She had tried to get him to speak of his, but he had always turned her down.

"Not much. Graduated, now an ad exec at a big company downtown. Still single." Laila almost hissed that last part, draining her martini in a gulp. As it happened, she drank it down right as her new one came. "You?"

"I'm in the CSI now. Have been in charge for a while. Still single." Horatio huffed.

"Here's to being single." Laila toasted, holding up her glass. He clinked it, and they both sipped. The night seemed to pass rapidly. They drank, they talked, and before too long it was late and Laila seemed to be stumbling a little. Horatio steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked. She looked as if she might reply before she began to laugh.

"No, I'm not. I've got the job of my dreams, an apartment people would kill for, and no one to share it with. I just want a nice guy." She leaned into his arms. "Hey, this might be the vodka talking but how about we meet tomorrow. We're both single, we both met years ago. One of those, if ten years later neither of us are married we'll get together things?"

Horatio shifted her around. He would definitely have to drive her home. She went quiet during the drive, giving him enough time to think. He had been single for a long time, almost too long. Her apartment was in a high rise by a beach. She offered her keys to him as they rode the elevator up. He unlocked her apartment, impressed by the view.

"Can't live without the stars." She mumbled, staggering to her bedroom. Horatio found Laila struggling to remove her heels. He quickly helped her get them off. He pulled a card from his suit jacket, found a pen on her dresser and quickly wrote down his cell number. She'd find it in the morning. Laila lay on her bed, whether asleep or passed out he couldn't tell. He walked over, looking at her. The tension had drained out of her face; he found she was very striking. He placed his lips on her forehead, the closest he had been to a woman outside of work in years.

"I'll see you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

Laila woke up in the morning. First thing first, she cursed her headache, herself, and her hangover. The large windows she loved for their view of the sunset and night sky now let in enough sunlight for her eyes to water. _Alright, start easy. What day is it? Saturday. Good, good. What happened last night? Went to a bar, got drunk with a guy. Perfect, what guy? _Laila rubbed her eyes.

"Goddamit." She muttered, looking in her bed. Only her, thank God. Last thing she needed was a one night stand. She got unsteadily to her feet, smoothed her royal blue comforter, then dropped to the sand colored carpet. Shit, what had she drank last night? "I will kill the next bottle of vodka I see." With that remark, she pulled herself to her feet, clutching her dresser for support. Her fingers closed around a card.

"Lieutenant Horatio Caine." Laila read. She remembered the redhead, hair lightened from the constant Miami sun. He had been nice when she first met him, years ago. He had comforted her when they took her friend's body away. When he questioned her, he hadn't been rough. Horatio also came back to tell her when they caught the guy who did it. He was cute ten years ago, now he was weathered. Stress lines had popped up, his eyes held a hard glow to them.

"Still good looking." She decided. The card held a smudged phone number on the back. Laila plopped back onto her bed and dialed. It rang a few times before he answered.

"Horatio." His voice was clipped, as if he was annoyed that she called him.

"Hi Horatio, it's Laila. Do I need to call back at another time?" Laila bit her lip. _Great, make the cop mad_.

"It's fine. Alexx, I'm stepping out for a minute. I want the COD when I come back in." He called, his voice distant from the receiver.

"Alexx? COD?" She asked, smirking.

"Our coroner, I want the cause of death on a body we found this morning." Horatio seemed like he was almost mad at her for not knowing this.

"Sorry, my degree was in marketing, not criminology." Laila joked, hoping to relieve the tension. It worked.

"I should apologize. You wouldn't have known. Are you alright after last night? You were quite tipsy." He huffed, flicking his cell with a finger.

"Yeah, just a little hungover. Remind me to never drink vodka again." She chuckled. Horatio laughed too, a comforting laugh that she wanted to hear again.

"I'll keep that in mind tonight. How's Cuban sound?" He asked, glancing back over to Alexx. Alexx lifted a gloved hand in a thumbs up. COD found.

"Great. I live at-"

"I know, I drove you home last night."

"Oh, sorry." Laila shook her head. Stupid, she probably made a pass when she was wasted.

"It's alright. I'll be by at ten." Horatio said as he made his way back down.

"See you then." She hung up. Horatio listened to the tone for a moment before he put his phone in his pocket. Arriving down with Alexx, he looked at the corpse before them. The man's chest had been opened up, revealing the broken rib that had pierced his lung.

"Well, we've got a beating on our hands." The motherly coroner said, her dark hands holding the offending rib. "Poor guy probably got in a brawl and was killed."

"Let's try and solve this one quick. I've got a date." Horatio called over his shoulder as he left the room.

* * *

It took exactly three hours for the entire lab to find out that Horatio was headed out. It was met with immediate speculation, Horatio was not known to be a ladies man. It was gossiped at by the reception desk, in the locker room, even over evidence as Delko and Wolfe worked on another case.

"You're kidding. H has a date?" Wolfe asked, lifting a bloody shirt from an evidence bag.

"I swear. Got it from Alexx herself." Eric said, pulling a pair of scissors to cut the shirt up. "Last time that man went out, he was here at two in the morning, drinking coffee, afterwards. I asked him what was up later that day and he promptly told me to shut the hell up."

"Alexx say who the girl was?" Wolfe laughed, taking the scissors and trimming off a piece of the hem. They would DNA test it later.

"No, but I saw H with a girl last night. At the bar." Delko muttered. "Left before they did. Think they could have gone out afterwards?"

"No idea. Maybe we should ask him." Wolfe said as he took the evidence bag.

* * *

Delko found H's door slamming into his face an hour later.

"What'd he say?" Wolfe called from behind him.

"Nothing. I swear, before the week is out, I will find who he's seeing."

* * *

Laila lifted up two different dresses. The red one was flirty, short and slightly skimpy. The blue was longer, more elegant. Which one? The red was sexy, but it made her look a little washed out. The blue didn't make her as sexy, but she looked good. _He's older. He won't be looking for some sexy babe. Elegant is best._ She hung the red back up, pulled some jewelry from a box, then sat down to figure out her hair.

It wouldn't hold a curl for her life. The Miami air didn't help either. She decided to leave it down, then got into the dress. It was held up over one shoulder, then fell to rest at her knees. The silver looked good with it, she thought as she fastened the necklace and drew on a bracelet, very marine. Laila spent a moment looking at the stars, praying the date went well. A sudden urge came upon her, she turned off all her lights and stood before the large bay windows. A small amount of moonlight came in, blending in with the sandy carpet and the light from outside.

A knock sounded on her door.

With hope, she turned the knob.


	3. Chapter 3

Horatio had taken less than an hour to get ready. He left the lab, took the Hummer since his car was in the shop, and stopped by his house. It was a small apartment, near a beach. All he needed was a quick shower, a bit of cologne, and a fresh suit. He tucked his badge into his suit pocket, then holstered his pistol. The jacket hid it, but he always felt strange without it on him when he went out. Hopefully he wouldn't need it tonight. He pulled up outside of Laila's building. It was a tall one, and she was up high. Their elevators were quick though, he was soon outside of her apartment.

When she opened the door, Horatio found he needed a moment to breathe.

The ten years that had passed had been as good for her as they had bad for him. He found that he enjoyed the blue dress on her, it showed off her long legs. Even though she was in silver flats, she was only an inch shorter than his six-foot frame. Her face had cleared up, when they first met she had a mild case of acne. Seeing her hair hanging down made him want to tangle his hands in it.

"You look amazing." He told her, holding out his hand.

* * *

"As do you." Laila responded, taking his hand. It was soft, but had calluses. He looked professional, sunglasses sticking out of his pocket. What held her the most was his eyes. They were a striking blue, but there seemed to be more than that. They were a sad blue, it made her want to hug him and try to make him happy. With that sudden urge she reached up and kissed his cheek.

"Not shy at all are you?" He asked, slipping his hand to her waist as they stood in the elevator. He smiled, highlighting the crow's feet around his eyes.

"You need to smile more. I try to help where I can. So tell me, do you always have your sunglasses? Even at night?" She asked him as he helped her into the Hummer. His only answer was a smile as he set them on the dash of the car. Horatio drove them into downtown Miami, to a crowded Cuban restaurant called Manuel's Casa de Cubano. It was brightly decorated, yellow with white trim on the walls. Spanish mariachi music came through a speaker system. The whole place seemed lively. They were quickly seated, with a couple of margaritas on the way. Laila began to laugh, trying to hide behind her hand. Horatio drew her hand down, gentle but firm in his motions.

"Something funny?" He asked.

"It's just been awhile since I was out with a guy." She told him, "Yet here I am in a restaurant with a CSI. It just makes me happy."

"You know, I'm in the same situation. We should have met sooner." Horatio told her, "Could have helped both of us."

* * *

He found he enjoyed the way that she would meet his eyes. She would glance at them, then blush and look down. It was so innocent, so cute. It had been a long time since he had met anyone as innocent as her. When he had held her hand, he found it soft and smooth. It was obvious she did more office work than labor. Also that she exercised, she had kept her figure from when he first met her. She was skinny, and lacked the heavy bust and rear that many Miami women went for.

God he needed to stop thinking like a CSI when he was off the job.

Here he was in a nice restaurant, with a beautiful girl at his table, and she was obviously interested. As was he. The menus interrupted Horatio's train of thought. They advertised spicy, flavorful food. That was something he rarely got to enjoy. The menus gave him the option to look at her without her noticing. Those brown eyes were racing through the menu, blinking every once in awhile. They flashed up and he quickly looked down. Damn, she caught him. She smiled over her table, displaying her front teeth.

* * *

Laila wished her teeth were better. Years of braces and orthodontics had helped straighten them, but her front teeth felt too big. She always wanted to cover them. They weren't even smooth, the ends of one had little ridges. It was embarrassing, and because of that she almost never smiled.

"I'll say." She muttered, sipping her margarita.

"Why? You're quite pretty. You were years ago. I thought the boys would have been banging your door down." Horatio didn't seem to mind her teeth.

"Yeah, well smart girls seem to scare the boys away. As do women in power." Laila explained, contemplating the salt around the rim of her glass. She snaked out her tongue to lick a few of the crystals.

"In my line of work, I have learned to respect those smart women. As for women in power, I have no issue with it." Horatio told her with a smirk. _My, my. I think there's relationship potential here._

"Hola, señory señorita. Have you decided on your order?" The waiter asked. He was dressed in the restaurant's uniform, a frilly white shirt and black pants.

"Oh yes, arroz con frijoles negros." Laila told him, handing her menu over.

"The red chile tamale." Horatio said. The waiter noted it, then nodded. Laila smirked. "What?"

"Red chile for red hair." She chuckled, drumming her fingers together.

* * *

Horatio leaned back in his chair. She thought she was clever, even a little witty. He enjoyed that, it was better to be with someone interesting than an airhead. And Laila was interesting, of that there was no doubt. The dinner progressed well. They chatted, ate, and then went back into the Hummer. He pulled up outside her building, then opened the door to help her out.

"How about a walk on the beach?" Laila asked. She took his hand, then dragged him along. She slipped off her flats and let the ocean roll over her toes. Horatio watched, unwilling to get his leather shoes ruined. She seemed to recognize that, and promptly took his hand. Laila walked in the sea, he walked outside it. They passed a few other couples, before coming to a rock formation on the shore.

"Let's sit." Horatio offered, settling down onto a rather smooth rock. She smiled and joined him.

* * *

"Do you like it here?" Laila asked. He braced his arm against the rock, giving her a seat back. The moonlight made Horatio look good. It softened his face, and his eyes. They didn't seem quite so sad anymore. _Good, he needs to be happier._

"Yeah, it's different from New York. That's where I was before." Horatio settled his hand around her waist.

"I love it for the ocean. It's so beautiful." She gave her own reason, "After college, I just didn't want to leave. Florida's a bit different from Iowa you know?"

"Even after U of M?"

* * *

Horatio mentally slapped himself. Why did he have to bring that up? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She wouldn't want to talk about that. Laila went silent for a moment, leaning farther into his shoulder. It took awhile for her to respond.

"After Maria, I-I thought I would leave. I didn't feel safe. If it happened to her, it could've been me next. I was even looking at transferring." She looked into his eyes. Laila didn't look away anymore. Horatio thought he could see tears in her eyes. "Then you came. You let me cry on your shoulder, you were so nice. Then after it was all over, when they caught him, you came back. You told me it was safe. I still remember you saying if I ever had an emergency, to call 911 and ask for you."

"But you never did"

"School got crazy. I went by once, they said you transferred to New York. I never did know you came back. Never did thank you for convincing me to stay." Laila boosted herself up and kissed his cheek again. He turned, pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her smile, then kiss her back. Horatio let his fingers wind into her hair, not pulling but resting on her shoulders.

"I think that will work for a thank you." He whispered when they broke apart. Those brown eyes held his as she smiled. The stayed on the beach for awhile, kissing and looking out at the ocean. When Horatio finally decided to take her back, it was awful late, she was reluctant to let him leave. She paused at her apartment door, after giving him her cell number.

"I had a great time tonight." Laila told him.

"As did I." Horatio was surprised when she leaned forward and kissed him again. "I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep well."

With that, he left.

* * *

Laila walked into her apartment. All she needed was the moonlight. It cast a low light over everything, her couch, her TV, and the door to her bedroom. Laila stood in front of the window, like she had hours before. Everything had been amazing. He was handsome, and caring. He liked her too.

Plus he hadn't even tempted her with vodka.

* * *

**Author Note: I want to thank everyone who ****favorited, alerted, and reviewed. Please review so I can know if you guys are enjoying the story and what you guys think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note: Alright, I'm setting this in 2012. Just because. Oh, and I do not own CSI, CSI: Miami, or their ****characters in any way, shape or form. I just use them to help me tell my stories. Also, this takes place before Horatio and Marisol get married. I don't think I would be able to do his devastation justice.**

**These chapters will be getting longer as well.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Horatio's morning found him standing over a homicide. Young woman, late 20's, Latina. Dressed for a business, matching skirt and jacket. Very conservative. Shot in the head. He frowned, it was a shame but it was his job to figure out why this happened and bring the killer to justice. He glanced up, they were in downtown. Close to some of the bigger businesses.

"We got anything?" He asked, his team spread out among the scene.

"Casing." Calleigh called. She held it up above her head. Good, a casing meant they could figure out exactly what type of gun was use and match it to the bullet.

"This is what, the second one in this area? Inside of three weeks?" Delko set his case and a purse down next to Horatio. "Driver's license is registered to a Calista Flores. Not married, no kids. Not even a boyfriend."

"Same with the last one right?" H asked, looking at the purse.

"Yeah, seems like he has a target." Delko was going through the purse. There wasn't much to go off of. Wallet, cell phone, a few receipts crumpled in the bottom. Horatio turned to his cell. He sent a quick message to Laila. He wanted her to know. Maybe he'd get her some mace later. He double checked his text.

**_Good morning.  
Be safe today.  
I had a great time last night.  
Coffee? Five?_**

* * *

Delko wanted to smile. Laila Collins, it was to easy. He'd Facebook her later, then look on Twitter. Wolfe and him had a fifty dollar bet riding on who could find out the most. So far, he was in the lead. Wolfe didn't even have a name. He meandered over to him.

"Got it. Laila Collins."

"The vic?" Wolfe asked, swiping up swath of blood.

"No. Horatio's girlfriend."

* * *

Laila had spent the night wrapped up in her comforter and a big fluffy blanket. Her dreams had been filled with moonlit beaches and a certain redheaded Lieutenant. He had also popped up on her phone. She smiled as she typed out a reply.

_**Sure, where?**_

With a fumbling hand she reached for her TV remote. She quickly flipped to the news, set her phone to wake her up in ten minutes, and dived back under her covers. Laila didn't so much fall asleep as she did just lay there, thinking of Horatio. All she could her was his name. Wait, that was her TV.

"Once again, we are live here in downtown Miami. There has been another murder. Lieutenant Horatio Caine of the Miami CSI department cautions for all women who work in the downtown area to be on the lookout. Lieutenant Caine also warn women to not stay out late in the area." A young female reporter was broadcasting for the local ABC affiliate. Laila could make out a mop of red hair in the background along with some very familiar sunglasses.

"Shit, that's right by work." Laila had no issue with cursing. Her phone buzzed, that wasn't the timer either.

_**There's a place by my work. Look up directions to the Coffee **_**_Bean by the courthouse._**

Laila couldn't help but feel good. Sure there had been a murder by her work, but she was going to see him again.

* * *

Horatio decided to spend the majority of the day working his way through the massive piles of paperwork on his desk. His team was good enough to know what to do without him constantly hovering. H felt fine about taking an hour off to meet Laila. Last night had been amazing, although he still felt regretful about bringing up her college years. That was stupid, he'd definitely have to apologize. A few hours later, he looked up when he heard a knock on his door.

"Hey H, got a minute?" Wolfe asked. Horatio nodded him in, then glanced back over to his computer. The can of mace he had picked up for Laila he put into the inside pocket of his jacket. Said jacket was also hanging over the back of his chair, providing him with a bit of cover to that Wolfe wouldn't see it.

"So, Laila Collins?" Wolfe had settled himself down in a chair and was smirking at him. "Witness to a homicide about ten years ago?"

"Where are you going with this Mr. Wolfe?" Horatio turned his gaze to Wolfe, staring hard into his eyes.

"It's just, I've never seen you in a relationship before."

"Well Mr. Wolfe, considering it isn't part of your job I wouldn't expect you too. Now, can you go see if Calleigh has matched the prints from the previous shooting?" Horatio ordered. he picked up his jacket and swept out of his office. It was close enough to five for him to go out. He told the receptionist that he'd be back in an hour but to call him if anything came up. It was a ten minute walk to the coffee shop, and he could already see Laila sitting on the patio. She was wearing a loose white blouse and rather tight khaki pants.

He decided he liked the pants.

"Horatio, a ten year break and all of a sudden we're meeting every day." Laila felt apparently like joking with him. Horatio was wearing his sunglasses this time, but even with them hiding his eyes, he could see everything. Including her smile. He sat down in the wrought iron chair, the mace hitting his side like a reminder.

* * *

"Hey Calleigh, H wants those prints in a bit." Wolfe told her, stepping into the ballistics area of the lab. The blonde agent was comparing two bullets under a microscope. The view from the scope was displayed on a TV screen behind her. She turned one of the bullets until it matched up with the other before she spoke.

"Prints are on the table, and tell Horatio that the bullets match up perfectly. We've got a serial on our hands." Calleigh didn't even look up from the scope as she talked.

"Thanks, I'm on it." Wolfe swiped the print out and quickly took the elevator back up. He looked around. H wasn't in his office. His jacket and phone were both gone. Wolfe stepped out of his office and back into the lobby.

"Hey, did H step out?" He asked the receptionist. She nodded. "He say anything?"

"Lieutenant Caine said to call his cell phone if anything came up."

"Would you mind calling him and telling him the prints are a positive match, as are the bullets?" Wolfe tried to turn on a little charm. Linda was older but she was still single. She quickly picked up the phone and spoke quietly for few minutes.

"Lieutenant Caine will look at them after he return from his coffee." She told him when she hung up. He nodded, smiled and turned back to the elevator. All he needed was his phone, and he would lead Delko in their bet.

He got the name, but Wolfe would get the picture.

* * *

Laila's Sunday had been amazing. She had relaxed for a few hours, showered, did a little shipping, and then left to meet Horatio. Her car wasn't as nice as Horatio's, but it was serviceable. She had parked it away from the store, only a couple minutes walk. She had gotten there early so she ordered an iced coffee and settled in to wait. In a few minutes, Horatio came walking around the corner. Laila waved him over. He seemed to find her little joke funny.

"Indeed, could call it making up for lost time." He said. God he could make her smile. "Listen, I'm sorry for bringing up U of M last night. I didn't mean to upset you." Laila ran her hands through her hair. She glanced up at him.

"It's alright. It was so long ago, I just hadn't thought about it in awhile." She explained. "I really meant what I said last night. You did convince me to stay."

"Well, I'm glad I did." Horatio removed his sunglasses. "In fact, I have a present for you." _A present? Really?_

"What?" Laila asked. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a can. He set it on the table, then turned it so she could see the label. Mace. "Mace?"

"I worry. You could say I'm a tad overprotective." Horatio reached over to hold her hand. "We've had several murders around your work. I know you go back tomorrow, could you just call me when you get there, when you leave, and when you get back to your apartment?"

"You know, my mother made me do the exact same thing when I first got my license." She quickly grasped his hand tighter. "I can take care of myself."

"I know, just... Please? For me?" Horatio really seemed concerned. His blue eyes caught hers, there was a blatant sincerity in them.

"Alright, I'll keep it in my purse."

"And if anything makes you feel nervous, or scared at all, call me. Immediately."

"Horatio-"

"Immediately."

"Fine."

* * *

Wolfe settled himself behind some bushes across from the patio. She was not bad looking, he might call her pretty. This Laila though was one of those girls where you would walk right by her, one that you could never remember seeing. He quickly snapped a picture of her and H holding hands across the table

_Your move Delko._


	5. Chapter 5

No matter how much Laila tried to shake it, she felt like Horatio was onto something. Maybe the mace was a good thing. She clutched it through her purse, the rounded shape giving her a bit of reassurance. It was strange, before he had said anything she had never felt this scared walking to her work. As soon as she had made it to the executive office she occupied as the head of advertising for GraphicsGlobal she whipped out her iPhone.

"Laila, is everything alright?" Horatio sounded calm but his words were anything but.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just, don't worry to much okay?" She twisted the gold chain she was wearing.

"I won't. Call me when you leave."

"Horatio you sound like my mother. Are you going to ask me if I packed my lunch?" All Laila heard before he hung up was his deep chuckle. She stashed her phone on her desk, then logged onto her computer. Laila was absorbed in her newest ad campaign when there was a tap on her door. Her boss's secretary stood there.

"Mr. Sanders would like to see you."

"Alright Ashley, I'll be there in a second." Laila slipped her phone into her desk and quickly locked it. Horatio had rubbed off on her, even though it had only been a few days. She walked out into the studio that occupied the main part of the floor of the office building. Sanders did love to keep his designers happy. Unfortunately, he never called his execs in to say something positive.

"Ms. Collins, sit." Sanders gestured dismissively to a chair in front of his desk. He was rather heavyset, and he was beginning to bald on the back of his head. His florid face showed his fondness for drink. "Now can you explain why we've only had three new clients this month? You were supposed to bring in more."

"Well Mr. Sanders, I have been trying. A graphical design business is not one you can really advertise on television. I have taken out some ads in a few business journals and have talked to the local network affiliates. I'm sure it's just a downturn. We'll come back." Laila wrung her hands underneath the table the entire time. Sanders had a reputation for either loving what she said, or hating it. "Besides, we still have the contract for that dentist, Mr. Chocran. Plus that deal with Disney is almost though, you know the one to redesign some of their signs? And Nickelodeon called to ask us if we would be willing to update their logo."

"I DON'T CARE!" He exploded causing Laila to shrink back. "What do I care about some sleazy dentist or a defunct kid's network? Huh? Get out of my sight until you have some big contract for me! And don't come back until you do!" Laila quickly exited, walking straight past the designers back into her office. _Get it together, that one wasn't so bad. You've had worse. _She spread her hands on her desk and took a few deep breaths. Sanders was probably drinking from one of the multiple bottles of scotch he kept around. He didn't care about what she did. By the end of the week she'd have the Disney contract ready and hand it over to the designers. Sanders wouldn't care. If she brought him a report saying that the company was making money from their advertising he'd be happy.

She kept her head down for the rest of the day. Sanders exploded three more times and actually fired one of the designers. Said designer left the office, packed up his desk, and with a glare over his shoulder, walked out. Perhaps she would email their head of human relations about Sanders. Ask for her to tell him to be a little softer. If Sanders kept being this volatile GlobalGraphics was bound to fail. With that thought firmly in her mind Laila typed out the email and sent it. God, how she wanted to leave. She wouldn't though. The money was too good. Plus, Laila didn't want to leave Miami. No matter how bad it got, unless she was fired, she would stay.

* * *

Horatio found he couldn't concentrate on anything. His whole team was on the case of the serial killer that was rampaging downtown. Calleigh had confirmed that both murders had been performed with the same weapon. Wolfe and Delko had been combing the police database for a set of fingerprints to match the murder weapon, but apparently their guy didn't have any prior convictions. That meant they couldn't find him, or trace his relationships.

All and all, it was pissing the Lieutenant off.

"Something wrong Horatio?" Calleigh was leaning against his doorframe.

"I just want to catch this guy. Before he gets another." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Calleigh seemed to recognize this and left. Something was nibbling at the back of his brain, a seed of worry that had taken root. Laila. He wanted to keep her safe. He had to. Horatio couldn't let her be like the girls they kept pulling off the street. His job was being knee deep in all the evils of the world. He knew how they worked, what they did, and how it all ended. Another victim on Alexx's autopsy table, opened up. He blinked away the thought of Laila on the table. _That's why you need to catch this bastard._

"We don't have much." He muttered to himself. He drew out a fresh sheet of paper and began to write. "Two victims, both shot in the head. Both female. Both single." _Not related in any way. Worked at different business, but both downtown._ "Damn." _It could be random. He just wants to kill for the fun of it. _He practically bolted out of his chair when the phone rang.

"Caine." He answered, glancing at the paper he had been writing his thoughts on.

"Lieutenant, you'll want to get down to Miami Avenue and Second Street. We just found another victim." He could tell it was a police officer on the other side. Probably given the duty to call the CSI while others blocked off the scene.

"Alright, I'll be there in twenty minutes." He slammed the phone down and ran to collect his team. Inside of half an hour he, Calleigh, Alexx, and Delko were standing over the poor girl.

"Coworker called 911, saying she hadn't come in and hadn't called in sick. Police found her a few hours later." Delko looked around the alley they were in. "Not a very pleasant place to die."

"No indeed." Horatio agreed. "Calleigh take a look around, see if he hasn't thrown the gun somewhere. Alexx, same COD as the others?"

"Yeah, bullet to the brain." Alexx pulled the girl's brown hair away from her temple. "You had so much left ahead of you sweetie." The crime scene was all to familiar to Horatio. That little worry began to grow. He pulled out his cell, quickly punching her number in.

"Horatio? What's up?" He felt himself relax when he heard her voice. She was safe, but she sounded slightly haggard.

"Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." With a little trepidation in his hand he pressed his phone closer, and walked a little bit away from Alexx and the body.

"Is this about that murders they were just talking about on the radio? Didn't they just find one?" Laila didn't sound scared but more curious. "I still have the mace you gave me. I swear Horatio, I'll be okay."

"I know, I worry because I care. I'll talk to you later." Horatio had his back turned so he didn't see Alexx turn her head around to gawk at his back.

"Alright, I'll see you later."

"Bye." He hung up with a sense of content that vanished when he turned back to face Alexx. Calleigh had arrived back from searching the area, empty-handed. Delko was watching as they wrapped the girl up in a body bag. "Anything Eric?"

"Bystanders didn't notice anything. I.D says her name's Nancy Smith." Delko shook his head, "He's getting faster H."

"When they start to move faster Delko," Horatio said pulling on his sunglasses, "They start to make mistakes."

* * *

Laila felt nervous as she made her way to her car. Work after Horatio's call had been stressful. She had finished the advertisements she had been working on, proclaiming GlobalGraphics to be the newest and easiest way to get your company known. Her job didn't require much push from her, she merely had to make sure the designers knew how she wanted the ad to look. They would send her several versions of the ad, and she would pick the most appropriate on for the situation. Laila shouldn't have been this stressed out. She threw her purse into her car then sat. She quickly tapped on Horatio's name and her iPhone immediately called him. It rang a few times before it played the standard "leave a message" soundbite.

"Hi Horatio, I'm leaving. I'll call you when I'm back at my apartment." She hung up and began to drive. It took her an hour to make a fifteen minute drive. Miami traffic was a bitch, not really from a multitude of accidents but from a large influx of drivers at a single time. When she finally pulled up to her high rise she was pissed at just about everything. The ride up only made it worse. She threw her purse into a chair and grabbed herself a glass of tea. All she wanted right now was to watch the sunset over the ocean. That was all that was on her mind as she stood in the cooling breeze.

She had forgotten about calling Horatio.

* * *

Horatio shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He'd give her a little more time before he called. Traffic was horrible and there was a chance that she could still be sitting on the highway, staring off into the distance. It had been an hour and a half since he had listened to her voice mail. He glanced over to his desk clock. It had been exactly two minutes since he had last checked. Horatio grabbed his phone, checked his messages, then blew out his breath in a massive sigh. Damn, might as well call. It rang a few times before going to her voice mail. He hung up. Every three minutes he called her, looking from his work to his phone. On the tenth try, when he was starting to get nervous, she finally picked up.

"Oh my God, Horatio I'm so sorry. Everything's fine, okay? I was just out on the balcony, and just had a case of the Mondays, and oh, I'm so sorry." Laila seemed to speak in rush, it took him a minute to process out what she said.

"It's alright. Do you have anything going on for dinner?" He asked, shifting his papers around.

"Um, I was thinking Chinese. Why?"

"Just curious."

"Fine. Have a good night." She sounded almost angry. He bit his lip. "And Horatio?"

"Yeah?"

"If you want to come over, you can." Oh thank God she wasn't mad. He smiled, glancing around. His shift was almost over. That left him plenty of time to pick up the food.

"I'd like that. Any particular place?" Horatio could almost picture it. It would be a regular date. They could curl up on the couch, watch the news or some late night television, and just enjoy each other's company without bringing up self defense or a painful past.

"P. F. Chang's? Just get me the Dandan noodles." Laila sounded excited. Horatio himself was, strangely enough, excited for a normal domestic scene. With an assurance that he'd be there in an hour or so, he hung up and called ahead to reserve their meal.

* * *

Laila did not have Horatio's calm demeanor at the moment. Her mind was racing through scenarios. _Is this going to be __the sex date? Have we been around each other too much? Am I being clingy? Oh please don't let me be clingy. I don't want to chase him away._ She considered redoing her makeup from where she had rubbed her cheeks, but decided against it. She'd change into some comfortable clothes, pull a bottle of wine from her cupboard, and wait. She didn't have long to wait. It all seemed to pass in a rush before Horatio was knocking at her door, takeout in hand.

"How was your day?" Laila asked, reaching up to kiss him. She smoothly slipped the bag out of his hand and into hers.

"Good as a day for a CSI can be." He muttered, following her into her kitchen. He watched as she pulled out silverware and quickly set the two of them some trays to eat on. Laila watched as Horatio poured the wine into a couple of glasses. He seemed content to leave the TV turned to the news and she had no qualms with it. All she wanted was to be by him, and just relax. It seemed like all to soon the food was eaten and cleared away. She collapsed the trays and placed them in a closet. Horatio was still on the couch, his arms spread out as he watched the TV. Laila quickly grabbed a large blanket and settled herself inside of his arms.

"You look tired." She whispered, reaching up to feel his cheek. With a quick movement she settled the blanket over both of them as she leaned farther into him.

"Work can be like that sometimes. Especially when you have to deal with a dead woman." Horatio sounded tired to. The lines in his face were more prevalent and he seemed to small for the suit he was wearing.

"Well, you just relax. If you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me." Laila kissed him lightly on his lips. "Now, let's just stay here together." Horatio grunted then drew his arms tighter around her. She listened to his breathing, hearing it become slower and more relaxed. With little thought for the morning, she surrendered herself to sleeping on his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

When Horatio woke up that morning, the first thing he noticed was a bony frame wrapped in his arms. The second was that he was not in his own bed, or any bed for that matter. He was laying on Laila's couch, with Laila in his arms, a blanket spread over both of them, and his face in the crook of her neck. He let his head roll back, enjoying the moment. It was one of the first good nights of sleep he had had in awhile. All thanks to Laila in his arms. She mumbled something in her sleep and turned her head to face him. When she encountered him her eyes flashed open, annoyed at the fact that she managed to whack into something. Horatio chuckled then kissed her.

"Good morning." He whispered. She lay there for a second before she returned his kiss.

"I'll say." She yawned, then shifted to look at the TV. "Well, at least it's only seven." She pressed her head back to his chest, looking up at him underneath her lashes.

"Plenty of time for breakfast." Horatio said, shifting her off of him so he could stand up. "I feel like donuts, you?"

"Wow, a cop who likes donuts. Never seen one of those before." Laila sat up, smiling. "I only kid. Get me a carmel one, will you?" Horatio smirked, smoothed out his suit, and then grabbed his keys.

* * *

Laila watched him leave, smiling. His staying over wasn't exactly planned, but she had enjoyed it. She hadn't meant to hit him with her nose but it had been enjoyable to know he was so close during the night. She folded the blanket up, left it on her bed, and went to shower. There truly was nothing like a nice hot shower. Afterwards she wrapped herself in her fluffy robe, and began blow drying her hair. She was almost done when she heard the knocking on her door. Horatio was standing there, a Dunkin' Donuts bag in his hand.

Their breakfast was quick. Laila wolfed down her donut and told Horatio to wait while she went to change. She quickly pulled on a pair of pantyhose, then took out her favorite charcoal suit jacket and skirt. She slipped on an ivory blouse then drew on her suit. With a pair of metallic gray heels dangling from her hands she made her way to her bathroom and quickly did her makeup. With a quick snap she fastened on a pair of pearl earrings and a small pearl choker. Her hair she drew up into a low bun, and with one last check in the mirror, she went out to see Horatio.

"You look very nice, if I might say so." Horatio was lounging in a large armchair in her living room. Laila smiled, feeling a blush stronger than the one she had put on make its way up her cheeks.

"You may. But I think it's time we get you home." Laila settled herself down on the arm of the chair, crossing her legs demurely. "Get a fresh suit and all of that."

"My team won't notice. They'll just think I've been working all night." Horatio's trademark smirk came up. "Instead of sleeping with a beautiful woman in my arms."

"Now, why would they think that?" She teased, running her hands through his combed back hair. She could feel the blush melting away as she spent more time playing with his hair.

"Let's just say that I'm not known for being in a relationship." He took her hand and smiled sadly. "You're my first one in quite awhile." Damn, the blush was back. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Well, it took you ten years but I think that's alright."

* * *

Soon enough she looked behind him and exclaimed that she had to go. Horatio followed her down to the parking lot and watched as she got into an older sedan. He sat in his Hummer and pulled out after her. Her apartment was only a short drive to her work. He waited until she came out from the parking garage that she left her car in. Horatio rolled down a window, his sunglasses taking the glare down to a minimum.

"Alright, now you go on and get to your lab. I'll call you later." Laila had stopped outside the passenger side. God, he loved the way she looked right now. The choker only made the tan she possessed stand out more.

"Have a good one. Call me when you leave." Horatio told her. She flashed him an okay sign and quickly clacked her way into the building. He shook his head, glad that she was getting to somewhere safe. It was a short while later that he parked his Hummer outside the lab and made his way in. He noticed Wolfe and Delko standing by the elevator, looking at a photograph between them. He glanced over their shoulders, then immediately clenched his hands into fists. It was a picture of him and Laila at the coffee shop.

"So, do I have a stalker or are you two going to explain this?" He growled, causing Wolfe to start. The two of them turned around, then glanced to their shoes. He gestured for them to follow him to his office. Once they were seated he closed the door, then sat behind his desk. He slapped the photo down on his desk. "Explain. Now."

"H, we just had a little bet going on. It was-" Delko tried to talk before Horatio cut him off.

"I don't care. My personal life does not involve either of you. I'm keeping this picture, and Mr. Wolfe, your phone?" Horatio held out his hand. Wolfe gave him his phone, then watched as Horatio erased the picture. "Now, both of you. Out." The two CSIs left shamefaced as Horatio watched. Once they were out he let out the breath he had been holding. Those two would be the death of him. Now, for work. No evidence had been turned in for the cases he was working, but that changed quickly. A police officer came in, holding a see-through evidence bag that contained a gun coated in trash.

He said that a bartender had reported seeing it in a trash bag that he took out. He had responded, dug it out of the trash, and had brought it to them. Horatio had it sent down to Calleigh in the ballistics lab to be cleaned and tested. That would take awhile, the gun was filthy. By three in the afternoon though, she said she had her report and he was waiting in one of their evidence rooms to hear it.

"The gun was the same one used to murder both Calista, Nancy and the first victim, Lori Salings." Calleigh set her file down in front of Horatio. He flipped it open then began to pin the pictures up. Three photos showed bullets that had taken lives, the fourth one that Calleigh had shot at a target.

"So our guy kills Nancy yesterday, then goes out for a drink." Horatio considered the pictures. "Really wanted to celebrate, didn't he?"

"But why throw his gun away?" Calleigh furrowed her brows. "Avoid suspicion?"

"Maybe, maybe he just thought we were getting to close." He swiped a finger across his eyebrow. "Calleigh, find the officer who was called to the club and find out what its name is. Then send Delko and Mr. Wolfe there to check the security footage. I want to find this guy." Horatio turned around and left the lab. Delko looked up from the lab he was in. The fact that he and Wolfe had followed Horatio and found out who his girlfriend was had been quickly disseminated through the whole department.

"What's up H?" He called from the room.

"Mistake number one."

* * *

Laila was enjoying a club sandwich, a very good club sandwich. She finished it, then turned back to her computer. Today had been a very productive day of work. Sanders had only exploded twice, at his personal assistant and at the Chief Financial Officer. Laila had managed to hide in her office all day and put in her lunch order from the local sandwich shop. Their interns made a lunch run for them every day. She would leave early today, she had a yoga class to get to. A couple hours later she was on her way. Her instructor was quite good, and very handsome. Her class was full of women in her age range, 20's to 30's, all in sports bras and yoga pants. A few wore socks but more went without. She was slowly becoming more and more flexible, but what she really enjoyed was the meditation at the end of the class.

This meditation was different. Usually she just thought of colors or a meadow. Sometimes she thought of Bradley Cooper or Brad Pitt shirtless. This time she thought of Horatio. She lay on her mat, tightening and loosening her muscles, and pictured herself in his arms. All she could see was his eyes, those sad blue eyes. She pictured herself wrapped in his embrace, and before she realized it the class was over. She changed back in the gym's locker room and pulled out her phone. It was buzzing loudly with a call from a number she didn't recognize.

"Hello?" She asked, adjusting her hair.

"Laila Collins?" The voice was different than what she expected, not stalkerish or anything.

"Yeah, who's calling?"

"My name is Eric Delko, I'm a CSI under Lieutenant Caine. You might want to come by here." That made Laila stop.

"Is Horatio hurt? Is he?" It all came out in a rush, and Laila almost felt shocked by the concern in her voice.

"No, not physically. He, he's had a rough day. Just, just come down to the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I'll let you in." With a sudden click the call stopped. Laila placed her phone back into her purse, summoned the inner calm that had stayed with her from yoga class, and let her feet guide her. Soon enough she was pulling up outside the police department and walking towards the large sign that proclaimed the building to be Crime Lab. A younger Hispanic man was waiting by a large reception desk. Laila almost felt intimidated by the all black and silver motif of the building.

"Laila?" He stepped forward, a hand held out.

"Yes, Officer Delko I'm assuming?" She shook his hand firmly. "What happened?"

"Well, H tends to get close to his witnesses. And, well, a witness to a bank robbery was found beaten to death after she had been," Eric looked down to the floor. "raped. He hasn't spoken since he got back from the hospital to identify her body." Laila sighed inwardly, feeling like her heart was going to fall out of her stomach. She could only imagine how Horatio felt. He had to deal with this every day. Eric quickly showed her the way to Horatio's office. The red haired Lieutenant was in his office chair, staring at the papers on his desk. He didn't have a trace of emotion on his face. Laila walked over to his side, knelt, and placed her hand on his arm.

"Horatio, are you okay?" She spoke softly, trying to reach him. He didn't respond but turned his head to see her. "Do you want to talk? We can go to my place, or yours, or even down on the beach." He only blinked. "Alright, let's go to your place. I'll drive, hand me your keys." Horatio at least seemed to be able to follow simple commands as he handed her the keys to the Hummer. She walked out with her arm over his shoulder.

"Lieutenant Caine will be taking the rest of the day off for personal reasons." She told the receptionist as they walked out. The only thing Horatio told her was his address as she directed him to the passenger side of the Hummer. His apartment wasn't far from the lab, maybe five minutes, possibly less. Soon enough she had him at his building and was walking him up to the second story. The key to his apartment was inscribed with the apartment's number so she knew exactly where to go. Horatio followed her inside, flinging his suit jacket to the floor. He slipped off his holster and left it on a side table. Laila bent down to pick up his jacket and followed him. His apartment was much smaller than hers, it wasn't hard to follow him. What it lacked in size though, it made up for in tasteful furniture. Everything was decorated in dark wood with even darker leather. The table Horatio had set his gun on also held a photo. It showed a much younger Lieutenant with his arm around a younger officer. They shared the same eyes, he had never mentioned a sibling. Laila shook the thought out of her head as she made her way over. Horatio was slumped down onto his couch and had pulled out his badge. Laila settled herself next to him.

"Now, tell me." Laila reached over to cover his hand with hers.

He didn't talk.

"Horatio Caine, you cannot bear the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me share the burden. Just talk to me." Laila begged, trying to get him to listen. Horatio lifted his head for a moment, looking off into the distance. He stayed that way for awhile before he spoke.

"I have watched many people die. Far too many times. And I can never seem to help them. Not even when a friend died in my arms." His voice was deep, a small trace of emotion buried underneath. "My job doesn't mean I can help them until they're dead. And then this happens. A woman is beaten and assaulted because she was a witness to my case. I couldn't do anything for her then." He tossed his badge to the ground. "I still can't even do much after." His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "Not even for Ray."

"Oh, Horatio." Laila couldn't keep the sob out of her voice. She gathered him to her chest. "Nobody should have to go through that." To Horatio's credit he didn't sob or cry or do anything that she was currently doing. He closed his eyes tightly, holding on to her like a lifeline. "Shh, shhh. It's okay, it's fine." Laila rocked him back and forth, as much for his good as for hers. Finally she had cried herself out and Horatio had seemed to take some solace from her company. He pulled himself up, then kissed her. Laila was almost shocked, but responded instantly. The kiss was intense, longing, and had a need behind it that needed to be satisfied now. Something primal that promised it could solve whatever was going on. Solve it or at least hold the demons at bay at little longer. Soon enough Horatio was leading her to his bed and they left a trail of clothes behind them. Laila hadn't done much in the sexual activity department, but she knew that Horatio needed it. After a rough, emotional round of lovemaking she found herself with her head on his chest. She felt drained, empty. She was just about asleep when she heard Horatio whisper something. She figured it out a few seconds later.

"Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

For the second time that week, Horatio woke with Laila Collins in his arms. He couldn't quite remember what had happened. He had been devastated by the death of Cici, his witness. He had planned to do what he always did when this happened, lose himself in his work. He must have been worse than usual because he remembered Laila by him, walking him out, and holding him. He had spoken, reluctantly, of his feelings. She had cried for him, keeping him close to her. After that he had kissed her, asking her for something that only she could give. She had answered, giving herself over to him. She had done something, she had cared.

Laila had asked no questions beyond asking him to speak, and she had cared unconditionally. She had helped him, even though he never asked for it. _Perhaps that's why you feel so close. You've never met someone, at least in your line of work, who is good. She may have her faults, but she is good._ Horatio paused for a moment to consider those faults. She was independent to the point of a little rebellion, drank a little to much sometimes, and occasionally forgot things. But despite all of that, she acted selflessly. She cared. Laila seemed to feel the fact that he was awake, blinking a few times before she looked up at him.

"Good morning." She muttered. With a little yawn she buried herself farther into his chest, pulling the covers higher. Horatio would have loved nothing more than to spend all day in bed with her, but he had a duty to the people. A duty that necessitated him to get out of his bed, leaving the beautiful woman to watch, and put on a fresh suit. Laila herself began to get dressed, Horatio watched her gather her clothes and slip away. A few minutes later she was back, carrying her shoes. She slipped into his arms, kissing him. "Better?"

"Much." Horatio said, holding her close. He loved the way he could bury his nose in her hair and just smell the very feminine scent of hairspray. It had only been a few days since they had seen each other at the bar, but it felt to him like they had known each other for a long time. With the amazing sleep he was finally getting, he could easily see himself moving in with her. _I've got it bad. Does she?_ "I would love to stay here all day, but we do have to work."

"Ah, the dreaded walk of shame." Laila laughed. "Mind dropping me at my place?" Horatio smiled, glad that she was here. Especially glad that she wasn't angry or upset after last night.

"Not at all, in fact I'll pick you up during your lunch so you can get your car from the department." Horatio finished buttoning his shirt, holstered his gun, and then threw his jacket on over it. Laila appeared behind him, something held behind her back. He cocked his head. "What do you have there?" She stepped forward and smiled.

"I picked this up last night. Figured you might want it back." In her hand she held his badge, an offering. Something had bonded them together from last night. He remembered dropping it, not caring if it scratched. Laila had cared though, she always did. He took it, smoothing his fingers over the badge.

"Thanks."

* * *

Horatio was as good as his word, driving her back to her apartment, then waiting until she came back downstairs. She changed quickly, grabbed the report from the Disney company that had been faxed over, and raced back outside. The Hummer was still waiting. Horatio quickly dropped her at work then drove off. The receptionist looked up as she hurried in, her hair blown around from the breeze outside.

"You're late." The receptionist, Molly, said. "I'll have to tell Sanders."

"Go ahead and tell him. Tell him I was late because I was finishing the Disney deal. Tell him that I was late because I was finalizing a 1.5 million dollar deal." Laila fairly growled at her. The receptionist sneered but didn't reach for her phone. Laila quickly set her stuff down, and then called some designers in. These were her pros, the best designers Sanders had hired.

"All right, the Disney deal went through. We are to produce 5 large poster ads for Disney World, 10 to advertise rides, and offer 7 new designs for signs for the Space Mountain ride." She laid out the details before them, writing on the white board behind her. "I want prelims on my desk by Thursday." She left them to begin their brainstorm session. Originally Sanders would have run the meetings, but not anymore. Laila directed the designers, even when it was on a contract. When she had first arrived, the chain of command had just been going straight to Sanders. That was not a good way to do it. Slowly, she had diverted it so the designers began to come to her to pitch ideas. Sanders never even noticed that she was doing much more than producing ads for the company. By doing this she was stuck at her computer for about an hour until Ashley, Sander's secretary, came up. Apparently he wanted to see her. Laila collected the report from her desk and followed Ashley.

"Hello Mr. Sanders. I've got the report on the Disney deal. We'll get our payment once they're satisfied with the work we're doing." She laid out the report on his desk. Sanders had his back to her, she heard the clink of a bottle to a glass. He turned around with two brandy snifters in his hands. He handed one to her. She took it, then removed the bottle back to his collection. Every time that he brought someone in to drink, they were expected to place the bottle back. It was a tic he had.

"Well done Ms. Collins. A toast to celebrate?" He raised his glass. Laila smiled and clinked her glass, but she didn't drink. Sanders eyed her. "What, is my brandy not good enough for you?" _Shit, he's pissed. _

"Of course not Mr. Sanders, I merely have to drive myself out for lunch and I didn't want to be impaired." She mentally crossed her fingers. He seemed to acquiesce and waved her away. She got back to her office, still holding the snifter. She dumped the brandy out in a potted plant and stashed it in a drawer. She'd put it back tomorrow. The clock read noon, it was time to meet Horatio. He had already sent her a text, saying that he was outside.

"I'll be back in half an hour Molly." She called over her shoulder. Molly didn't even respond, just continued clicking on her computer. The Hummer was pulled up by the curb, her sunglasses wearing Lieutenant sitting in the drivers seat. He pulled away from the building, then drove towards the Police Department.

"I've got lunch waiting in my office." He told her, pulling into his own reserved space. Laila followed him, once again back in the Crime Lab. A pair of take out boxes were sitting on his desk. She was delighted to find a salad in hers, with ranch dressing to boot. There was a sudden knock at the door. Laila furrowed her brow. A beautiful woman was standing there, full, dark, curly hair hung towards her waist. She was tanned and when she spoke she had an accent that just made her all the more exotic. _Must not act jealous. That would be stupid._

"Horatio, we've got the report on the club. Wolfe is going through the security footage right now." She said as she walked forward, pulling out a file. She set it on his desk. "Hello, you must be Horatio's friend. Laila?"

"Oh, yes. And you are?" Laila extended her hand, hoping she would shake it. The woman did with a smile.

"Yelina Salas, I'm a detective. I'm also Horatio's sister-in-law." Yelina let go of her hand. "We'll have to have lunch sometime." With a nod to Horatio she left the office, her badge flashing.

"How did she know my name?" Laila turned back to Horatio. He quickly explained the situation with Wolfe and Delko to her. She only laughed. They finished their salads and Horatio walked her outside. With a kiss on his cheek she walked to her car, got in, and drove off.

* * *

He watched her go with a twinge of sadness. She had told him about her boss, but he dismissed him as harmless. He knew there was a big difference between shouters and someone who would snap. This Sanders was just an angry guy, not a murderer. He flipped open the report when he got back to his desk. Apparently the club was called "Serenity" and their cameras had caught him. Delko had paused the video and taken a snapshot of their guy dropping a rather large and conspicuous napkin in a trashcan. He quickly went down and told Dan, their audio, visual, and general computer guy to begin running the picture against driver's licenses, passports, anything government issued with a picture attached. It would take hours for them to get a result. Horatio returned to his usual pattern. He roamed down to Alexx, then to Calleigh, and finally to Delko and Wolfe.

"Hey H. We've got the DNA on that domestic case." Delko said, sliding it towards him. The CSI tended to run about ten cases at any given time, and the nightshift ran even more. "Have a good time last night?"

"Watch yourself Eric." He warned, collecting the file. Dan caught him on the way out.

"Our video? Matches up to a Kenneth Quint. Lives over in Coconut Grove." He handed Horatio the file. He flipped it open. Thirty years old, five feet ten inches, and had an address. Thirty minutes later the Hummer and three Miami-Dade police cars were pulling up outside a rather large house. The officers took up positions by the door, ready to barge in. Horatio held up his hand, then let it down. They burst in, startling a man up from a chair. Spread before him was a gun, taken apart so he could clean it. An officer grabbed his arm, wrenching it behind him to he could cuff him.

"Kenneth Quint?" Horatio asked. The man nodded. "You're under arrest for the murder of three women. Get him out of here." Horatio jerked his head. The man screamed curses as he was hauled out, nothing that Horatio hadn't heard before. He looked at the gun on the table. He was planning to do it again. Pictures were taken of everything, and the house was blocked off with yellow tape. His team would collect all the evidence from the house, bag it, tag it, and bring it in. He arrived back at the crime lab, taking his time to get to the interview room. He stopped by his office and picked up the report. As he neared the room, he got a clear picture. Kenneth was sitting in a chair, staring at the wall. An officer was posted in the corner, hand on his gun. Horatio reviewed the evidence file once more before entering. He pulled out the picture of the gun.

"Do you recognize that?" He asked, spinning it across the table. Kenneth leaned forward. His eyes narrowed and he actually smirked. Horatio looked over at him. "Did you use that gun to kill three women?"

"Yeah." Stange enough, Horatio heard pride in his voice. "Those sluts had it coming. Every, single, one of them." His voice had lowered to a hiss. Horatio never broke eye contact with him.

"Is that what you're going to tell their families?"

"Yes, and I will tell them that the world is better off without them in it." The man's voice was almost giddy. He was happy. Horatio had to stop himself from beating the man.

"I just want to know one thing. Why would you go out, celebrate a murder, and throw your gun away?"

"It's my calling. I knew it was what I was meant to do, ever since I first saw a dog die. And as for celebrating," he began to laugh, "what better way to give yourself a pat on the back? The gun, I knew you were getting close Lieutenant. I figured my chances of doing it again were better if I changed my weapons. Throw you off my scent." Kenneth began to laugh, horribly. Horatio gestured roughly to the officer. Kenneth was pulled up and dragged from the room, screaming. The Lieutenant had dealt with a lot of nut jobs over the years, but he took the cake. When he went back to his office he told the receptionist, Paula, to organize a press conference later in the day to report the capture of the Downtown Killer as he had begun to be called. _Probably all he wanted. He wanted to be known._ Horatio stood back in his office, staring at the stack of files that had magically appeared. His phone started to buzz, vibrating its way across his desk. He picked it up, pressed it to his ear, and spoke.

"Horatio Caine."

"Horatio, please. You-you need to come, you need to come get me. Please." It was Laila, and she was sobbing. He was immediately out of his chair, gripping the back of it with white knuckles.

"Laila, are you safe? Have you been hurt?" He tried to keep his voice calm but it was difficult to conceal the urgency in his tone.

"I'm fine, but my boss. My boss is dead." Her voice had steadied a little, as if saying it had calmed her down.

"I'll be right there, stay away from the windows. Hide in your office." He told her, thrusting his phone into his pocket. He jogged past Paula, took the elevator down, collected Calleigh, Alexx and Wolfe, and left. With the sirens flashing on the Hummer he wove his way through traffic like a madman, squealing to a stop by the two cop cars already there. He looked at the board of occupants, then slammed the elevator call button as fast as he could.

"Come on, come on." He repeated quickly under his breath. The elevator finally dinged to allow them in. He hit the button for floor 32 and tapped his foot as they rose. With his back to Calleigh and Wolfe he didn't see the look pass between them. Alexx merely shrugged. It finally deposited them in a floor full of shocked people, huddling in little groups as officers took their statements. With a quick movement of his hand he sent his team to go find their scene. He glanced around. The whole floor was taken up. Offices had been built around the edges, leaving the middle free for desks, drafting tables, and printers. Horatio made his way around the offices, glancing at the name plates until he saw hers. He threw the door open.

"Laila?" He called, finally seeing a pair of heels peeking out from under the desk. Her face came up, mascara running down. She didn't say anything, just walked forward and wrapped her arms around him. He held her, much she had held him, and muttered sweet nothings in her ear.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" She asked into his chest.

"Of course, of course sweetheart. Now, I have to go view the scene. I want you to stay here. I can send over an officer to take your statement, is that okay?" All she did was nod, then settle into a chair. He walked out, then gestured to one of the officers to come over. "I want you to get her statement, she's a little upset right now so be gentle." The officer nodded, then went into the office. Horatio made his way to where the crime scene was. Alexx was lifting the head of a middle aged white male, and the movement was causing the gaping hole that used to be his throat to close like a grin. He almost shuddered, but steeled himself.

"Slashed his throat with a broken bottle. Driver's license says his name's Zachary Sanders." Alexx shook her head, letting the victim's rest on the ground.

"So does the name plate outside. Quite the brandy collection." Horatio had assumed his usual demeanor, relaxed posture with his hands on his hips. "Weapon of opportunity."

"Yeah, Horatio there's broken glass everywhere. I'll grab everything and bring it back for prints." Wolfe was currently taking pictures of the bloody bottle itself, and of the large brown stain on the floor. "See that stuff?"

"Looks like brandy," Horatio said, grabbing a pair of gloves from Calleigh's box. "Smells like it too." He carefully collected a swab of it, then swabbed the bloody edge of the bottle. There was little else to do but collect as much of the glass as they could and wait for a stretcher to take the body out. As they waited, he looked up. Not a single security camera in here. He glanced out into the main floor. Nor out there.

"Horatio, you think this guy was up to something?" Calleigh asked, following his gaze.

"Well, when you don't have any security cameras, there's usually something you're trying to hide." He started over towards Laila's office. The policeman had exited, but stopped when he saw Horatio.

"Said she didn't see anything, walked in to drop something off, and found him dead." He said. Horatio nodded, then slipped in the office. Laila was sitting in the chair, staring out of the lone, slender window. She was shivering. He pulled his jacket off, then slipped it over her shoulders. She gave a weak smile for him, but still stared away. Once the body had been taken away he took her down and sat her in the Hummer. One of the officers offered to take his team back to the lab. Laila didn't move for the entire drive. _Was this what I was like last night?_

"Now, let's get you cleaned up." He told her once they were back to her apartment. She nodded, handed him his jacket, and slowly moved towards her bathroom. "I'll handle it, just sit for a moment. Once I have a bath drawn I'll undress you and help you in." Laila almost seemed like she was in a trance, but she did as he asked. While her bath was filling he took a washcloth and dipped it in the water. Gently he began to wipe away her makeup, and was shocked when she fell onto his shoulder. He was worried that she had fainted but when he tried to shift her back to get a better look at her she only leaned farther in.

"I'm sorry Horatio, I don't mean to act like this." Laila had finally spoke. "I'm acting like a baby." Horatio leaned over and shut the bath tap off.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Today has been hard." Horatio kissed her forehead. "Now, take your bath and I'll be waiting." Laila nodded, her skin shivering as he undid buttons, zippers and clasps to get her undressed. He helped her in, passed her a bar of soap and left her robe on the vanity. Half an hour later she walked out, steaming from the heat, and settled herself next to him on her bed. Horatio had removed his jacket, gun, badge, shoes and belt while she was bathing. He held her throughout the night, as she sobbed, talked, and finally, fell asleep. Horatio finally let himself fall asleep when her breathing steadied.

It had been a very long day.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I have decided to make this story a ten chapter story. Now, don't worry. Laila and Horatio's story will continue in the sequel, Repairing the Present. I will also write some one-shots about their relationship. Enjoy your reading and don't forget to review!**

* * *

Laila heard Horatio speaking quietly into his phone. He was talking to someone named Frank about an interview. An interview with her. She knew something had happened yesterday, something that had driven her and Horatio to stay together during the night. Laila remembered feeling numb for the majority of yesterday afternoon. It all came back in a rush. Sanders, the contract, all the blood. When she gasped Horatio pulled her tighter, his attention back on her.

"No, I'm fine. Just, remembering." She sighed, slowly blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

"It's alright. I'm going to have you come down to the lab with me. One of our detectives is going to interview you about what you remember and what your work was like." Horatio spoke calmly, smiling at her. Laila yawned and nodded. She quickly changed while Horatio got ready. He stopped the Hummer for coffee on the way down to the police department. He took her inside, then nodded to an officer. "Now, Josh here is going to take you to be interviewed. You can come see me when you're done."

"Okay. I'll see you later." Laila smiled then followed Josh. He gestured for her to take a seat, across from a balding man. The man had a notepad in front of him, alongside a pen. When he spoke, he had a Texan twang to his voice.

"Hello Laila, I'm Detective Frank Tripp. Now, what can you tell me about the murder of your boss, Zachary Sanders?" Tripp didn't sound angry at all. In fact, he didn't even sound suspicious.

"Well, I was just working in my office and I had a report I needed to bring to him. So I went over and I just found him, in a pool of blood. I called the cops," Laila lowered her voice, "and then I called Horatio."

"Horatio?" He asked, looking up.

"Yeah, I had lunch with him before." Laila was a little stricken, she didn't want him to get in trouble.

"Are you and Lieutenant Caine..." He paused for a few moments. "Involved?"

"Yes."

"Well, that explains why he wanted me to interview you." Tripp muttered, glancing at his note. Laila cocked her head slightly, biting her lip. _Why would he not want to interview me himself?_

"It would be a conflict of interest, he'd be biased towards you." Frank said, looking up. Laila mentally slapped herself, twice.

"I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Yep." He didn't seem that surprised. This must have happened before. "Now, what exactly was your office like?"

"Well, everybody just tried to stay out of Sanders' way. He had a temper." It all came spilling out, how Sanders was known to explode at the slightest provocation, how people were often fired for just making him mad. Frank recorded everything she said, thanked her for her time, and told her she could leave. She found herself waiting in the lobby after she had sent a text to Horatio. He came out a short time later. She found she enjoyed the way that he was always dressed in suit with the top button of his shirt undone and his badge clipped to his slacks.

"How did it go?" He asked, settling into a chair. Horatio's legs were almost too long for the chair, he used them as an armrest.

"I think it went fine, we talked for awhile. He just wanted to know what work was like. I told him I didn't know who killed Sanders." Laila smiled at him. "I think I'm going to be at home for the rest of the day. I can walk to the garage to get my car."

"If that's what you feel like." He said, "Call me later." Laila smiled and got up. It was only a fifteen minute walk to the garage and a quick drive back to her apartment. Laila had decided to spend the day out on her balcony, reading.

* * *

For Horatio Caine, it was going to be a very busy day. After Frank had interviewed Laila he had helped in the process, garnering statements from every employee of GlobalGraphics. They had all said the same thing, mean boss and quick terminations. The secretary, Molly, had been the most eager. She had quickly divulged that security cameras weren't in the office because of something Sanders was doing. Molly thought it was either an affair or he was screwing with the numbers.

"That doesn't make any sense though, that Laila chick is the one who always winds up keeping everything going." Molly popped her gum, then leaned closer to Frank and Horatio. "She was the real one in charge. Sanders started everything, but as time went on he just stayed in his office. She took over more and more of the day to day things. All she would do was give Sanders reports on how the company was doing. In fact, I saw her go into Sanders' office. She walked out with something."

"Okay, when was that?" Horatio asked, suddenly interested.

"Before lunch. She disappeared right after." The bleached blonde shook her hair. "I think she did it. Zach never gave her credit. She probably got pissed, smashed him."

"Thank you. Officer James here will escort you out." Horatio gestured for her to leave. It didn't take very long for evidence to begin to flow. Eric had dusted the bottle, finding three set of fingerprints. That meant they would have to get ten cards from all the staff. Wolfe and Valera had found that the blood only belonged to Zachary, so he had no lead DNA wise. It was going to become a series of elimination case.

"H we're going to need those ten cards before we can get any farther in this case." Delko said, looking up as Horatio entered the break room. "We've got to go on prints. Without any cameras or witnesses we've got nothing." Horatio poured himself a cup of coffee before responding.

"I've got officers calling all employees, telling them to come in tomorrow to get fingerprinted." He almost yawned. Why was he so tired right now? "I'll be working on our drowning case for the rest of the day." A young woman had washed up on Miami Beach, her lungs filled with water, but bruises consistent with strangling around her throat. Her bathing suit had some trace evidence inside of it, glass shards. Wolfe had determined the type of glass used, a very high end brand. They were doing a system search for any sales in the Miami area, and from the list of buyers narrowing it down by buyers with boats. The results would be on his desk inside of an hour.

"Alright H, I'll call if anything comes up." Delko looked back to the papers in front of him. They were all pictures of the bottle, the body, and other evidence they had collected from the office. Horatio looked over his shoulder. A brandy snifter, bearing fingerprints, had been photographed. Underneath it was written **Found in Laila Collins' desk drawer**. Odd, she hadn't said anything about that to Frank. _Damn, I can't ask her about any of it. I __probably shouldn't even see her until the case is solved. _He frowned. _Shouldn't even call her._

* * *

Laila had enjoyed her day off. From what she had read, in situations like these it was better to be relaxed. Laila read a lot. She had received a call in the early afternoon, but not from Horatio. An officer of the Miami-Dade Police Department had called to tell her to be at the Crime Lab at ten o'clock tomorrow. He had also said that she should expect to remain at the Crime Lab for the entire day. She would be okay with that.

What hadn't happened though, was Horatio calling her.

It was already night. Laila glanced over her shoulder to the clock on her microwave. 9:30. Horatio should have left by now, he should be back in his apartment. He should have called. _Don't be obsessive. Obsessing only makes it worse._ She shook the thoughts out of her head. Just remain calm, remain calm. She got up, wandering to her shower. She took a long, hot shower. Using the best stuff she could find in her bathroom she scrubbed, shaved, and conditioned herself until she felt clean.

It took awhile to get that far.

She ate a small dessert, a teacup of ice cream, and grabbed a book. She used that to distract herself until her eyelids began to droop. She placed a book mark in the book, closed it, placed it on her nightstand and turned off her bedside lamp. When her head hit the pillow, she knew something was off. She flipped, laying on her side, back, stomach, anything. She tried adjusting her pillow. It didn't help. She felt cold. Laila grabbed an extra blanket, it just made her hot. She kicked off her covers, then shivered. With a sense of determination she shut her eyes, but all that sprang up was her boss lying in his blood. She looked up at the ceiling. She knew what she needed. She needed someone to be in her bed, someone to hold her.

Laila needed Horatio.

* * *

It had been a long day for Horatio. They had managed to track down the family that owned the boat which had the glasses. They had admitted to having a party on their boat, and seeing the victim. They would be brought in tomorrow for questioning. As would Laila's entire office. He sat down in a chair placed in a corner of his apartment. He rubbed his head, thinking. He had been in several relationships over the years. He remembered the pretty public defender, she had cared. She had also cared about a cop killer though, that had been what turned him off. She didn't have morals, she was just after money and being promoted. Truthfully, it seemed to be that way with most of the women he dated. things would start out fine, but eventually he'd find something that just didn't feel right and he'd end it.

He needed a drink.

While Horatio's apartment may have been small, it did hold a liquor cabinet that he stocked with some of the best. Currently, he felt like a scotch. He sipped the drink, turned on the TV, and tried to relax. There was a football game on, and for awhile he was successful. The Vikings were holding the Jets off, and playing pretty well at that. He flipped the station, moving from news, to entertainment, to movies and back. Eventually he just turned the TV off. Tonight was not going to be an easy night, he decided as he walked to his shower. He found a sort of peace in running through the motions, cleaning himself under the steady stream of hot water.

His bed was the problem.

He couldn't get comfortable. He tried anything he could think of. He counted backwards, he let his mind wander. He talked to himself, anything to rid himself of the silence. Nothing worked. All that came to his mind was the memory of the woman he had held for the past few nights. She had whispered and talked to him when they lay together. He missed that. He wanted that back. _She's part of an investigation. She might have killed her boss. It wouldn't be right to make her think that __just because the two of you are together, she can get away with murder._

"It's not like that." He muttered. Horatio's mind often did this, presenting him with the good and the bad as if it were an argument. Sometimes it was helpful, other times it was annoying.

_Oh, of course not. The ever unflappable Lieutenant Caine would never let the guilty part get away. It's who you are. But, say this Lieutenant __decided to let this one slide, all for a woman._

"That would never happen."

_It might. If she's guilty, would you charge her? Or would you let her go, just for your own personal needs?_

"My job takes precedence over my love life. If she is guilty, I would see that she pays."

_Even at the cost of the rest of your sanity? Even if you could never sleep again? Not without seeing her in a cell, or maybe on Alexx's table. Those prisons can be awfully violent you know. Would you convict her if it had to be done?_

"Yes."

_Well, enjoy your night Lieutenant. Tomorrow will tell us all we need to know._


	9. Chapter 9

Horatio's day at the office began at 4 AM with a cup of coffee. It was common for him to do this, but it didn't happen all the time. Often he would come in early, and do paperwork until they got a call to go out. He had decided against that though, leaving a message for Paula to have all calls for investigators to go to Eric Delko. He would be handling everything in office, as would Calleigh and Tripp. They would solve this case, and they would solve it today. A few hours later, his team began to slowly trickle in. Around ten, their witnesses did. They were quickly corralled into an interview room, told not to talk, and then supervised by an officer to see that they didn't.

Calleigh and Delko were waiting for Frank to show up. So far, they had forty people to fingerprint, take DNA swabs, receive statements from, and photograph. H had made it clear that this case would get solved today, even if they had to work late. The fingerprinting was the most important, which was why they had already started. On each card they recorded the name of the individual, then took fingerprints underneath. All in all, it was rather boring.

Especially since they weren't allowed to speak.

That rule was usually never applied, but on a case like this where office gossip could make or break it, it was heavily enforced. It took them an hour to fingerprint everyone, then Delko took the papers back to the lab to compare them to the print on the bottle. Horatio was watching all of this from across the way. He only stayed to see the first few. He watched as Laila looked up when Delko was fingerprinting her and gave him a small smile. He forced himself to grimace so as not to return it, then regretfully took the elevator back down to his office. Delko came out of the lab awhile later, a file in his hands. Horatio watched him head back up with a sense of foreboding.

* * *

Laila sat in silence next to all of her coworkers. Normally she would have made small talk or at least done something. With what was going on though, she doubted she could even bring up the weather. Eric had taken her prints, but he seemed emotionally disconnected, as if she were just another face in the crowd. What hurt the most though was seeing Horatio standing in the other room, then seeing him leave. He had looked at her as if she had caused him pain. He couldn't really think she killed her boss, did he? She sat in her chair, waiting. Finally the female CSI came back in.

"Will Molly Harper, Morgan Dean, and Laila Collins stand up and follow me please?" She called out with a Southern breeziness to her voice. Laila got up, then watched as Molly stood. The girl was wearing a short skirt, a blouse that showed far to much cleavage, and three inch heels. Everything about her screamed trashy. Laila had never understood why Sanders hired her. Morgan however, she understood. The kid was one of her best designers. Despite being from Coral Gables he didn't have the natural tan that most Floridians posessed. He was, in fact, very pale. He also looked very nervous, as if the shirt he was wearing might strangle him. "The rest of you please remain here." There was a lot of glaring between all three of them. They were all suspicious. Calleigh took them on an elevator that went down until Laila was sure that they were underground. Calleigh stopped them in front of three rooms, only glass on the front of the room. Everything else was stainless steel. "Now, Laila you will wait in room A for me to interview you, Molly in room B for Detective Tripp, and Morgan in room C." It was a dismissal. Laila walked into the room, sat and stared out the front. It was a good five minute wait before Calleigh came back in.

"Now, Ms. Collins. I would like you to take a look at this." Calleigh opened the file she was holding and slid a picture towards her. It was a bloody broken bottle, covered in fingerprints. "We have matched up those prints to you, Ms. Harper, and Mr. Dean. The hard part is, finding the guilty party. Without any security cameras or DNA we can only determine who is innocent by taking your testimony."

"I didn't do it." Laila said, looking up.

"Well, we'll find that out today. Now, tell me exactly what happened that day." Calleigh didn't seem to find her protest unusual.

"I came in during the morning, I had made a deal with Disney to do some advertising and graphics for them. I organized a meeting for some of the artists and gave them the particulars. A few hours later, Sanders called me in to offer me a brandy to celebrate."

"Now, you said that you organized the artists. Wouldn't that be your boss's job?"

"Well, technically. When he hired me, he was already becoming more apathetic about the meetings. I just took over. If the company went, so did my money."

"So, you were concerned about your salary?"

"Yes, but I didn't kill my boss. I may not have liked him much, but I didn't kill him."

"So you drank the brandy?" Calleigh asked, checking her notes.

"No, I told him that I must decline. I went back to my office, and out to lunch." Laila finished, then watched as Calleigh pulled out another picture. This one was of a familiar brandy snifter.

"We found this in your desk. Know anything about that?"

"Yeah, I forgot to put the glass back. I threw the brandy in a plant then put it in my desk. I was planning to return it tomorrow." Laila furrowed her brows. Why would the glass matter? All it did was prove that she had been around Sanders.

"And then you went out to lunch. Did you meet anyone? Where did you go?" Calleigh watched the way Laila shifted uncomfortably, and the way she glanced around the room. It certainly made her look guilty.

"I came here to have lunch with Lieutenant Caine. He actually picked me up outside my office."

* * *

Frank Tripp sighed as he looked into the interview room. Why did they always stick him with the airheads? Oh, right. They knew it pissed him off. Resigning himself to fate, he entered the room. The blonde didn't even look up as he sat, nor did she look at the picture he set in front of her.

"Ms. Harper, if you could take a look at the photo."

"It's a bottle. So?" Her voice was grating. Ugh, this was going to be a very long day.

"That bottle has your fingerprints on it. That bottle also killed your boss. Care to explain why your fingerprints were there?"

"How do you know they're mine?" Molly popped her gum, loudly. Frank cursed his coworkers mentally. The curses he used were particularly colorful and almost artistic in the way that he used them.

"Ms. Harper, each person's fingerprints are unique. These ones on the bottle are yours, we matched them with the ones we took from you earlier. Now, tell me why you were in your boss's office, holding that bottle."

"Zach liked me. He offered me anything I wanted, he just wanted me to be with him."

"Sexually?"

"Yeah, but I mean, I have standards. He was older, and I'm just not into that. He brought me the bottle because he thought if he got me booze I'd go with him. I put it back in his office and told him if he tried anything I'd get my parents to sue him. He stopped after that." She popped her gum again.

"How long ago was that?"

"A week, maybe less?"

* * *

Delko felt bad for this poor kid. He was shifting back and forth in his chair, adjusting his collar, and he was white as a sheet. If physical signs were anything to go by, this boy was guilty as sin. When he opened the door, Morgan almost jumped out of his chair. Eric tried to put on a kind smile as he sat down. He opened his file to the bottle.

"Now, Morgan did you ever hold this bottle?" Delko watched as the boys eyes jumped around the room. Well, he was either guilty or extremely nervous.

"No. I never got invited into Mr. Sanders' office. I'm just a designer, the only he thing he ever did for me was sign my checks." Morgan's voice was gritty, as if he had been talking for two days straight.

"So, do you know of any reason why Ms. Collins or Ms. Harper would want Mr. Sanders dead?" Often Eric found the best way to get answers in these cases was not to ask why the suspect would want someone dead, but why the others would.

"I don't know much about Laila. She kept everything moving, but she never really hung out with any of us. I know that Sanders would yell at her on a weekly basis. Maybe she just snapped, killed him."

"And Ms. Harper?"

"Molly couldn't even swing that bottle. I know Sanders had a thing for her, but she couldn't have done this."

"So, you think it was Ms. Collins?"

"I didn't do it, so it must be."

* * *

After their initial interviews, Calleigh, Delko, and Tripp met up in another room. Each had taken detailed notes of their conversation and it was easy to compare all of them. Calleigh started.

"Well, turns out Ms. Collins has been seeing Horatio. She also didn't want her money to dry up, so she couldn't have a credible reason to kill Sanders." Calleigh flipped through her notepad.

"Actually she might. Morgan said the boss yelled at her all the time. She could have decided that the money wasn't worth being demeaned." Eric found this part of his job to be rather interesting. It was all about untangling the truth from the lies. It was rather fun to figure it all out. "He also said that he didn't think Molly couldn't have done it. Doesn't have the arm strength to smash the bottle."

"She might not have arm strength, but she has a motive. Sanders was hitting on her." Frank said. "But it seems like we haven't even narrowed the field. All three of them could have done it."

"I'm thinking Morgan, he's very fidgety in there." Delko looked at the others. "I can't say if he did it, but that's what I think."

"Eric, how hard do you think someone would have to smash one of those bottles to get it to break?" Calleigh asked, an idea forming in her mind.

"Pretty hard. That glass was really thick." Eric looked up. "You think we can eliminate one or two of them on strength?"

"Possibly, let's see what substitutes we can find." With a small plan the three of them split up. Frank would keep an eye on all three of them while Eric went to find a few bottles for them to use. Calleigh made her way to Horatio's office. He looked up when she knocked on the door.

"Hey Cal, how's it going?" He sounded tired, and no wonder. She had come in at seven, and he had been here for at least three hours. Calleigh sat down across from him, looking into his eyes. They were sad, worried.

"Horatio, when were you going to tell us?" Calleigh didn't want to sound upset, but she was. This could jeopardize the case. "If she's guilty and goes to trial, our entire lab could be compromised."

"I know. I wasn't exactly planning for this, Calleigh." Horatio raked his fingers through his hair. Calleigh knew that he only did that when he was extremely frustrated. "It just happened. I brought her here for lunch, and a while later she calls me, saying her boss is dead."

"Do you think she did it?"

* * *

"No, I don't." Horatio was firm on that. There was no way that the good he had seen in her could be undone by mere yelling. It had to be one of the others. It just had to. Calleigh left shortly after, joining Delko. He was holding three large glass bottles and a metal pipe with a stand. Frankly, he didn't even want to know what was going to happen next. All he wanted was for this day to be over.

And for Laila to be in his arms.

* * *

"Alright Ms. Collins, if you could just swing the bottle at the target." Eric watched as the hefted the bottle in her hands. She slid her fingers down to grip it around the neck. "Just swing it like you would a bat." Laila assumed a batter's stance, then swung. When the bottle impacted with the metal, part of it shattered. Luckily, the CSI's had counted on that, and had spread a tarp across the room to collect shards.

"Now, let's see." Calleigh said, taking the bottle from her. With a few quick swipes, she dusted the bottle with fingerprint dust. They would compare all three bottles to the murder weapon. She walked out of the room and set it on a table, in front of a card labeled Laila. They repeated the process twice, and amazingly, Molly couldn't even make a dent in the bottle. Morgan gave them a passable replica, which they examined under a bright light.

"So, Molly is out." Eric said, moving the complete bottle to the side. "Leaving us Ms. Collins, and Morgan."

"Now look at this Eric." Calleigh pointed to the two bottles. Each possessed a distinct set of fingerprints, arranged in an unusual way. "On Morgan's bottle, he gripped it farther up towards the actual bottle. Laila gripped it more towards the mouth."

"Where are you going with this?" Eric found this to be rather confusing. What was the point of the way they gripped it?

"Morgan gripped it like a weapon. He held it farther up to try and prevent the majority of it from breaking. Laila looked awkward with it, as if she was more afraid of having the glass cut her."

"So, you think it was Morgan?"

"That's what the evidence is saying." Calleigh seemed pleased with herself. Frank joined them when they went back into Morgan's room.

"Can I go?" He asked, pulling on his shirt.

"Not quite, have you ever been in a bar fight before?" Calleigh sat down, trying to appear nonthreatening. Frank did the opposite, assuming a looming spot behind the kid. Eric was standing in front of the door, arms folded.

"Once, in college." Morgan replied, turning to try and see Frank.

"So, you've used a bottle as a weapon before. Which would explain why you gripped your bottle higher up. You didn't want the whole bottle to shatter, you just needed a sharp edge." She didn't speak cruelly, or have a trace of anger in her voice. All she did was state the facts. Which made what Morgan did all the more sudden. He shot up out of his chair, a wild look in his eyes. Frank shoved him back down.

"He was going after Molly. I was going to ask her out, and he just wouldn't stop." Morgan growled. "All I wanted him to do was to stop. I just wanted it to stop."

"Read him his rights Frank. Morgan Dean, you are currently under arrest." Eric couldn't keep the smirk out of his voice. Morgan finally seemed to realize what was happening, sinking back down into his chair. "Looks like you won't be going out for awhile."

"Eric, handle this. I need to speak to Horatio." Calleigh said, walking out. Eric nodded, watching the procedure. She made her way over to Horatio's office. He was staring at his badge, running his thumb over it.

"Hey, come with me Handsome." She ordered, watching as he clipped his badge back to his belt. She stopped him outside Laila's room. Laila was siting there, staring at Horatio. "We've got a confession." Horatio's face blanched. "Morgan Dean confessed to the killing. Laila is free to go. I would suggest you go in and see her." Horatio didn't even respond as he pushed the door open.

* * *

Laila sat in the room, startled when Horatio burst in. He enfolded her in his arms, lifting her off the floor. She returned his embrace, letting the stress she had accumulated out by pressing her head into his chest. Horatio whispered lightly into her ear.

"I knew you didn't do it."

"I appreciate the confidence." Laila responded, enjoying the feel of his arms. She just wanted to spend the entire day in them. Horatio apparently felt that way to, because he didn't let her go for about five minutes.

"I'm taking you out for dinner. Someplace nice." He told her, locking eyes with her.

"How about tomorrow? Today's been a little stressful." She asked hopefully. Horatio was more than willing to agree, and he even walked her out to her car. He stopped before she got in.

"Would you mind if I came over tonight?" He asked. I must have had a crazy look on my face because he immediately backpedalled. "Not for that, no not that. I just, didn't sleep so well last night."

"No, come on over. I didn't sleep good either." Laila gave him a sad smile. With a kiss goodbye, she got in and drove back to her apartment. Along the way, she began to formulate what she would do now since she was effectively unemployed. She would send resumes to all the companies in Miami that she knew of, and get some friends to put in a good word. _Laila Collins would be alright. _She decided as she walked into her apartment. Trying to find something to do while she waited for Horatio, she cleaned, read, even went and touched up her makeup and hair. Finally, she heard him knocking on the door. Laila looked through her peephole to see a distorted Horatio standing there, struggling with a bouquet of flowers, a pizza box, and a suit.

"Hey." She said as she opened the door. He hung the suit on the doorknob, set the pizza on the floor, then proffered the flowers.

"I got you these." He used that as a greeting. The gift was a collection of roses, ranging from deep red to a white with just the slightest tint of pink. What she really enjoyed though was the dusty pink roses that had opened wide, releasing their hypnotic scent.

"Thank you Horatio." Laila reached up to give him a light kiss. "I'll get a vase. Make yourself at home." Laila busied herself in the kitchen, finally finding a vase. With the roses in a safe spot, away from any hard places that could shatter the vase. He had set the pizza on the counter, and she quickly put two slices on a pair of plates. She joined Horatio on the couch. He had managed to find a football game on, and was more than willing to let her slide into his arms.

"This feels right." He said, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, Miami's losing to Chicago. It's rather typical." Laila laughed, enjoying the puzzled look that entered Horatio's eyes. "As my mother liked to tell me, I am part of a small minority of females that enjoy football." That caused him to laugh, then bury his head in the crook of her neck. Laila considered asking him something that had been on her mind for awhile, then did.

"You, you never thought I did it, did you?"

"No, I never did. I knew you wouldn't."


	10. Chapter 10

Laila sat at her vanity, staring at herself. Horatio had slipped out sometime in the early morning, leaving a note explaining that he had to get to the lab early. She didn't mind, she knew he took his job very seriously. It was a major part of his life and she wasn't going to try and upset the balance. That was what their relationship was going to have to be based on. Horatio's job would require him to look at the world through a harsh lens, Laila would allow him to relax and calm down. She would find a new job, she was currently thinking about advertising consulting for some businesses, and would let the stress roll off her when she met Horatio. Everything was about balance.

For instance, all the stress she felt right now would probably melt away the second she saw Horatio's blue eyes and his ever present smirk. She would put everything she had into dinner, being charming and elegant while still being herself. It was all about balance. Tonight would be wonderful, they would be able to be together in a beautiful setting in one of the most vibrant cities in the world. The day moved slowly, finally around noon she gave up on staying in her apartment and wandered down to the small street of shops that ran outside her building. Most of them were high end, several where she went shopping for work clothes, but what she wanted was tucked on a corner. It was a small, brightly painted, secondhand bookstore called Beach Reads. It was crowded with bookshelves that leaned, chairs that had survived hurricanes, and it smelled like wet books mixed with air fresheners.

Laila loved it.

She often came here, found something to read, and only paid a few dollars for it. Sometimes she came looking for inspiration for a new ad, others she bought an armful of art books and brought them back to the designers. Her favorite times were when she came to find a romance novel, the way she would cover the title and the scantily clad heroine always made her laugh. It was just ridiculous. Hopefully Horatio wouldn't freak out when he found her library, a library that occupied every room of her apartment. She stashed her books anywhere she could find, and she often tore her apartment up looking for one title. Considering that she had seen a fair amount of books at his place, she doubted he would be frightened off. Suspicion of murder didn't even faze him.

"Hey there Laila, anything particular today?" James, the pale blond who owned Beach Reads, asked as she walked in.

"Got anything on forensics?" She smiled, glad for the fact that James would never reveal what his customers were into.

"Tasty. I've got a few, but they're chunky. Had a few to many literary Big Macs." James tended to talk about books as if they were people. For him, chunky meant over 700 pages. Just the way Laila liked it. She went to the appropriate section, pulled down a few introductory titles, a couple of the thicker ones, and came back up. With his usual lack of urgency, James scanned them and ran her card. Laila left the store feeling particularly happy. The way she saw it, if Horatio ever wanted to discuss his job with her, she wouldn't be uninformed.

With her books firmly in hand, she stopped into one of the upscale clothing stores to purchase something special for tonight. Her something special turned out to be a green dress, held up by a pair of crossed straps in the back. With a little bit of gold jewelry, she figured she would look amazing. Laila glanced at herself as she set the bag down, since when was she so pale? It only took a couple minutes to change into a bikini. She loaded a tote with a towel, tanning lotion, a book, and a sunhat. She slipped on her sunglasses then locked up her apartment. It was a ten minute walk to the beach, and another ten to find a space that wasn't occupied.

The beach was beautiful that day. Large, puffy clouds were slowly scudding across the sky. A few kids ran down the beach, flying a kite. Families and couples were arrayed along the shore, building sand castles and burying each other in the sand. The sight of so many happy people made her smile. Laila drew on her sunglasses, spread her towel and lay down. She wiped the tanning oil she had used onto her towel so that she didn't get it on her book. She opened her book, the title made her smile. _Forensics for Dummies_. Leaving her skin to tan she began to read.

She truly enjoyed the beach. Just like she had determined this morning, it was a place of balance. If you got hot in the sun, you went and swam. If you got cold in the ocean, you stepped into the sun. Laila repeated this cycle twice before she grew sleepy from the sun. Gathering her things, she left the beach. On her way back, she noticed cop cars blocking a section of the street, yellow tape blocking access. Simple human curiosity drew her in. Most people were looking for any sign of the crime, and Laila joined them in examining the commotion. She caught a flash of red hair, but when she looked closer it was a different officer. Not Horatio. She smirked, walked out of the crowd that was forming, and got back to her apartment. She checked her phone, there was a text from Horatio saying that he would pick her up at eight.

With a small grin of anticipation for the coming night, she settled down for a nap.

* * *

Horatio Caine found himself swamped with paperwork. That often happened though, as cases were solved the evidence had to be filed in the proper order and the courts had to be notified, as did the lawyers for both sides. Double-checking all of that took time. By the afternoon his eyes were sore from reading, his hand cramped from signing so many papers, and his legs were asleep from being in his chair so long. Around five, he decided he was done. He would have enough time to go home, relax a little, then shower and head off. He knew just the place to take Laila.

It was when he was getting out of the shower that he caught his phone vibrating. Laila had texted him, saying that she was getting ready but that the door would be open. He drew on his sport-jacket over an aqua dress shirt, grabbed his badge, and with a sudden urge, left his gun on the table in front of Raymond's picture. He looked down at the picture, thinking. He wasn't sure if Raymond would have liked her. His brother had never liked women who were, well, motherly. Laila wasn't exactly a matron, but he could easily describe the way she acted towards him as motherly. He shook these thoughts out of his head. Let Raymond stay in the past, all he had left his brother was a nephew with no father, a grieving wife, the legacy of a dirty cop, and enough messes to keep Horatio busy for the next five years. He drove the Hummer over to Laila's, spent about five minutes trying to find a parking space big enough, and then went up. The door easily opened, bringing with it the scent of roses, coconuts, and the ocean breeze.

He let the door close behind him. "Laila?"

"Hey Horatio! I'm almost done, just give me a few!" Her voice rang out from the back of the apartment. He just smirked and leaned against a wall. True to her word, she emerged a couple of minutes later and Horatio felt his lips and lungs tighten, involuntarily. Laila looked beautiful. She wore a green dress that sparkled in the light, and it brought out her brown eyes. They were lined with brown eyeliner, and sparkled with golden eyeshadow. Small emerald flecks of glitter stood out, drawing him down to those eyes. They weren't just a plain brown. Laila's eyes looked like the sun had caught some dark gemstone. Various shades of brown shone in them like a sunburst. All around them her skin was bronzed, almost warm to the touch. He lifted his hand to brush away a small lock of hair. It was light, soft to the touch. Her whole body sparkled, tan from the sun. All she wore was a small golden chain and a pair of green earrings. Just a simple stone. He suddenly remembered to draw breath, and he could smell the coconut butter she had worked into her skin. What drew him in the most though was her lips. They were covered in pink lipstick, glossy.

"Well, what do you think?" She asked, batting her lashes. Horatio tried to think of an answer.

He couldn't.

So he kissed her.

She responded in kind, following his lead when he deepened the kiss. He let his fingers wind themselves in her hair, one hand going around her waist to pull her closer. He heard her gasp slightly, and all of a sudden their kiss was broken. Her eyes found his, and he could see the color almost deepen when he looked into them. It took her a moment to get out what she wanted to say. "I guess that's a yes."

"I'd say so." He muttered, aiming to get another kiss out of her. She held up her finger to stop him.

"I believe you owe me a dinner." She smirked, then reached up to whisper huskily into his ear. "We can continue this later." With a laugh that rang behind her, she swept past him and out into the hallway. He hadn't even noticed the gold lame clutch she held, which she was now rifling in to find her keys. Horatio closed the door, then grabbed her wait from behind when she bent to lock up.

"I'm holding you to that."

* * *

Laila thought Horatio must have taken out a lease on the Hummer, he drove it everywhere. It was a bit of a drive until he pulled into a crowded parking lot. Laila had to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. He had to be kidding, he was taking her here?

"Shula's Steakhouse? Don't you know how expensive this place is?" She hissed, looking around. The people going in were dressed in the latest fashion, and were eyeing the Hummer as he pulled it into valet.

"It will be okay. Besides, we can walk on the beach afterwards." Horatio didn't seem at all concerned, merely tossing the keys to the valet with a warning about being careful. He walked over to Laila, put his arm around her waist and they made their way inside. The whole place was cozy, tables lit with candles and soft light from above. The hostess looked up as they walked in.

"Hi, reservation under Caine." Horatio told her.

She looked down to her seating charts. "Oh yes, right this way." She led them through the tables, finally winding up at a two person booth under a Dolphins jersey. She set their menus down, then pulled out a football and stand she had kept under the menus. The steaks were listed on the football, and everything else in the menu. Laila thought it a very good way to set up the atmosphere of the place.

"Football and steak, you've got me won over." She said, looking across to Horatio. He merely smirked. She found that rattled her a little. Sometimes he would speak, and others he would just give her that smirk. That damnable smirk. They sat in silence, not that it was uncomfortable. In fact, it was very companionable. It was only broken when the waiter came to take their drink and appetizer order. Horatio ordered a bottle of wine to split, and oysters for him. Laila got French Onion Soup.

"I'm glad we can do this." He said, laying his menu down. Laila followed suit, letting her hand rest on the dark wood. Horatio lightly gripped it.

"So am I." She told him, enjoying the way the candlelight played across his face. It made his hair lighten, and it seemed to make him relax. Laila considered their relationship as they held hands. Ten years ago they had met, and now they were here. The years had matured both of them, and so much time being alone had made her crave every moment she could have with him. The time that had to spend apart wasn't painful, she had been on her own for so long that she enjoyed having time to herself. It helped keep her sane. Horatio was kind, protective and he seemed to enjoy her company.

She liked him.

The dinner was wonderful, steak and potatoes the whole way. Laila enjoyed it, it reminded her of Iowa. She did miss her old home a little, on days when the day was too hot, and especially around Christmas. Miami never did get snow, and her family's house near Des Moines would often be buried under a few feet of the stuff. When offered dessert, Horatio asked for a cup of coffee and Laila was delighted to find that they offered creme brûlée. The custard made her think of Horatio. Hard on the outside, and a little cool when you got past it, but sweet when you got into it. They winded up with no leftovers that night, but Laila didn't feel overstuffed. the steak made her a little sleepy, but it was nothing a walk on the beach couldn't cure.

* * *

Horatio watched as Laila slipped her heels off. Her hair came down in front of her face, lending a little mystery to her. She shook it out of the way, letting the golden stilettos dangle from her fingers. She did love to walk barefoot in the sand. The two of them wound their way through the other couples taking an outing on the beach. Since the steakhouse was in a hotel, they were quite a few. Horatio managed to find them a pair of beach chairs, secluded under an umbrella.

Horatio let her sit, then sat beside her. They watched as the moon rose over the ocean, sending silver waves crashing to shore. Stars twinkled above, and below. The neon lights of Miami played with the natural light of the night. They seemed to dance together, twisting with the currents and riptides. Horatio could think of no better way to spend the moment, than watching the ocean with a woman in his arms.

"It's so beautiful." Laila whispered, her eyes never leaving the sea.

"Yeah, it is." He responded. They remained that way for a little over an hour, not even speaking. They just watched the ocean, and once it began to cool off drastically, she brought up the idea of returning to her apartment. Horatio wholeheartedly agreed to it. The rest of the night was spent wrapped in the comfort of her arms, and Horatio actually found himself falling asleep, willingly.

He fell asleep listening to the ocean breeze, and the heartbeat of his girlfriend.

* * *

**And so ends Broken Past. There will be a new story, Fixing the Present, posted soon that will continue Laila and Horatio's story. I will also post one-shots to cover the time in between the stories. Look for the next one to be up in a few days. Here is the story info.**

**_Carga de un Hermano_. (A brother's burden). As Miami celebrates _Dia de los Muertos_ Laila convinces Horatio to go out on the night of the dead and bid his brother a happy afterlife.  
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**Thank you so much for reading. You guys truly inspired me to keep going with your reviews. Thank you again.**


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